


Monster

by thelogicalloganipus (awkwardkermitfrog)



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Animal Death, Anxiety, Blood, Death, Murder, Other, and i plan to deliver, you guys asked for a horror story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardkermitfrog/pseuds/thelogicalloganipus
Summary: You guys asked for a Sanders Sides horror story. Well... here you go.Please be warned: there are some tags I did not add because it would give away the plot. Read at your own discretion.





	1. The Park

Thomas looked out across the playground, unsure who to talk to.  _ Go have fun  _ \- that’s what his mom had said before taking a seat on a nearby park bench and getting out a book. Thomas looked back at his mother, who gave him a small wave, and then back at the playground. It seemed like there were kids everywhere - brothers and sisters, friends, play dates - and here he was expected to just join in. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his shorts and began the trek out to the playground. He looked back at his mother again to see that she was absorbed in her book; like many other parents in the park, she was there to take a break from the stress of parental life.

Thomas walked awkwardly over to a swing set and sat down, gently propelling his legs back and forth. Soon he was swinging gently, letting the swoosh of the wind around his ears calm him. It felt less intimidating to be on a swing, away from all the other -

“Hi!”

Thomas skidded his sneakers across the dirt and looked over to see a boy about his size in a light blue T shirt and glasses smiling at him, next to the otherwise abandoned swingset. For a moment the two just stared at each other before Thomas worked up the nerve to speak.

“Hello.” His voice sounded quieter than he meant it to. He looked over at his mother, who looked up and gave him a small smile and a wave before returning to her pages.

“Can I swing with you?” The boy asked, still smiling widely.

“Yeah.” Thomas watched as the boy climbed onto the swing next to him and stood on the swing, using his body rather than his legs to propel himself forwards and back. 

“I’m Patton.” The child half said, half yelled. He stopped his body motion, causing the swing to stop where it was. “Who’re you?”

“Thomas.” 

“Hi, Thomas.” Patton dropped down to his butt on the rubber swing and began to swing in a circle, gently, twisting the chain. “Can I play with you?” 

Thomas thought a moment. He looked back at the other kids, who were all climbing over each other, yelling and laughing. They looked like they were having more fun than he would alone. “Okay.” 

The two began to swing together, their swings moving in parallel. 

“Do you wanna go to the woodsy part?” Patton called out as his swing caught for a second in the air, gravity pulling it down softly. He stopped the swing with his own sneakers and watched as Thomas stopped his swing, too. 

“What are you talking about?” Thomas felt cautious, curious.

“There’s a woodsy part of the park. People go jogging there and stuff. Wanna go?” Patton asked, still incessantly friendly.

Thomas looked back at his mother, who was turning another page in her book. Couldn’t hurt.

“Sure.” He found himself smiling a little bit as he followed Patton back, away from the playground equipment.

“How old are you?” Patton asked, hopping over a large rock. 

“Seven.” Thomas replied, stepping on the rock.

“Me too.” Patton turned to the right, going around a large community building, whose doors were open. “I don’t have any siblings though.”

“Me either.” Thomas said, skipping a little to catch up. 

“Can we be friends?” Patton’s voice was a combination of nervous energy and a good, happy energy. It made Thomas smile.

“Okay.” 

 

 

 

“Okay, blow out the candles Thomas!” 

Thomas obliged, trying to blow hard enough to get all the candles on the first try. He grinned as his parents, an aunt, and a few friends clapped. The big 1-0 on the cake marked the occasion of another birthday, and Thomas loved birthdays. He watched as his mother began to cut the cake and his father showed his aunt a photo that he’d taken of the moment, immortalizing Thomas’s rapidly fading youth forever. 

For a few minutes the group all sat there together, laughing and watching Thomas open presents. He felt overjoyed at having received a book about the tropical rainforest, a Spider-Man action figure, a set of Legos, and a journal. After a while, his friends were picked up by their parents, waving goodbye as they climbed into mini vans. Thomas sat there a while, watching his relatives talk and looking at his new journal, before he spotted a familiar looking child across the park.

“Can I go play?” Thomas asked, looking out across the park and seeing Patton sitting alone on a teeter totter. 

“Honey, you should really stay at the party.” His mother scooped up a second slice of cake and handed it to his aunt. “It’s  _ your  _ party after all.”

“Right. It’s my party, so I should get to play if I want. Right?” Thomas smiled as he saw his logic begin to work, his mother’s mouth curling at the edges. 

“Alright. But come back soon!” She called as Thomas ran out of the community building, towards Patton. 

Thomas watched as Patton’s face changed from one of loneliness to a grin. He hopped off the teeter totter and wrapped Thomas in a hug, laughing. The two began their walk back to the park woods, which had become their routine upon seeing each other. 

“Hey, why didn’t you come to my birthday party?” Thomas asked, stepping over the now familiar rock. “We were right over in the building, and you were invited.”

“I’m sorry.” Patton jumped over the rock and looked at Thomas apologetically. “I’m not allowed.”

“You’re not allowed to go to parties?” Thomas asked incredulously. “Why not?”

“My mom says cake is bad for me. She doesn’t let me have sweets or anything like that.” Patton took the first steps into the forest path and frowned. “I bet it’s great, though.”

“It is.” Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry you can’t go.”

“That’s okay.” Patton suddenly turned, smiling. “Oh! I found something really cool the other day! Wanna see it?” 

“Sure!” Thomas stepped on a stick and smiled at the cracking sound, following Patton off the path and into the side of the forest.

“It’s really gross.” Patton warned. “But also really cool.” 

The two stepped down a small hill, over plants and grasses, talking all the while. Thomas felt his excitement building - it was his birthday and he was going to be shown something? It felt like an awesome day to turn ten, or just an awesome day to be.

“This is it!” Patton said, gesturing to a small hole in front of him. 

Thomas peeked over Patton’s shoulder, suddenly feeling his heart jump in his chest against his ribs. He couldn’t explain it, but there was a sense of dread, a sense that he knew what was coming. For a brief second, he didn’t realize what he was seeing, blissfully ignorant. And then it registered.

It was a dog.

It was a dead dog.

He gasped, looking closer at the mutilated body. Its intestines were out, as if it had been cut up. Flies were swarming around it; maggots were alive in its intestines. Its eyes were still open, its mouth agape in terror. Thomas couldn’t stop staring, his jaw refusing to close. He looked more closely; there was something else about it, something familiar. His stomach dropped in horror as he held back a gag, pointing, gasping.

“That’s -”

“Cool, right?” Patton sighed sadly. “Sad, too, though.” 

“That’s my dog.” Thomas stumbled backwards, breathing fast. “ That’s Foster - that’s my dog!” 

“Oh.” Patton’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh.”

“I gotta go.” Thomas turned and began going up the hill as fast as he could. “I gotta go.”

“Thomas - I’m sorry!” Patton called after him, watching him run back out into the forest towards the park. Thomas didn’t look back. He reached the main path of the forest and didn’t stop running. When his mother asked why tears were streaming down his face he could barely make a sentence well enough to tell her. When he went to bed that night, still crying, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing it, rotting flesh, its maggots, the flies, the eyes...

That was the night Thomas became an insomniac. 

 

 

* * *

 

News reports began appearing around town about pets going missing and being found later, mutilated in various ways. The local animal shelter became overcrowded with people afraid that their pets would escape and be found dead, or that someone would abduct them from their yard. When Thomas asked if they could try to keep another dog, and keep him safe, his mother looked over at his father with a pained expression. 

“That’s sweet of you, honey.” His mother tapped the edge of the table, uncertain. 

“Yes, that’s very kind of you, thinking of animals.” His father nodded, encouraging.

“But you were so attached to Foster.” His mother swallowed after she spoke, as if trying to keep a dreadful memory at bay.

“I know.” Thomas looked down at his casserole. “I just thought… we could try again.”

“Thomas, honey, it’s not a good time.” His mother’s voice was extraordinarily gentle. 

“Yes, with all these animals going missing…” His father trailed off, looking at his disappointed son.

“Right.” Thomas picked at the edge of the table, not looking up, remembering the flies. “Sorry.” 


	2. High School.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years have passed. Some things never change.

“Can I sit here?”

Thomas looked up from his high school lunch tray to see what might have been the most sleep deprived gothic kid he’d ever laid eyes on. His entire demeanor was that of someone full of uncomfortable thoughts - hunched shoulders, a tense expression, and an inability to maintain eye contact. 

“Sure.” Thomas gestured to the empty side of the lunch table in front of him. He watched as the kid sat down and looked down at his lunch tray, picking up a fork and poking it into something that was supposed to be salisbury steak. 

“Usually there’s more people here.” Thomas said apologetically. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” 

“That’s cause I don’t like eating around other people.” The kid inspected the meat like substance on the end of his fork and sighed, putting it back on the plate. “Can we not talk?”

“I guess we don’t have to.” Thomas looked away, dejected. For a few minutes the two simply sat there and ate in silence, looking out across the rest of the cafeteria, not paying attention to each other. 

“I’m sorry - I get anxious. I’m Virgil.” The kid looked up from his tray and at Thomas. “I don’t have a lot of friends, and that’s probably why.” He scowled at the thought and opened his milk carton.

“Oh.” Thomas nodded and looked back at his own food. “I’m Thomas.” 

“Cool.” Virgil stuffed part of a bread roll in his mouth and chewed dryly. For a moment the two just sat there, letting the silence grow between them. Then Virgil spoke again. “I wish they served coffee here.”

“Oh my goodness, yes. That would be fantastic.” Thomas rolled his eyes dramatically. “I mean high school is so demanding. We need it.”

“We need something.” Virgil shook his head. “But nope. Just have to struggle.” 

“Can I sit here?” 

The pair looked up to see a student wearing a black polo, a blue tie, and glasses. Virgil snickered and Thomas nodded, watching as the student set down his tray. 

“Who wears a tie to school?” Virgil chuckled, opening his milk carton. “That’s way nerdy.”

“I will have you know that I am practicing for the professional environment that will come after this one. All business.” The student sat straight upright and, extremely proper, took his fork and butter knife and began to slice the slab of meat in front of him. The other two watched, fascinated that anyone could be so alert and professional in a school environment. “My name is Logan. I apologize.”

“Thomas.” Thomas said slowly, still fascinated by the precision of Logan’s eating. 

“Virgil.” 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintances.” Logan maintained his poised persona, as the other two continued to stare at him, both bewildered and amused. 

The three looked up as the lunch bell rang, giving them five minutes to put away trays and go to class.

“I’ll see you guys around sometime?” Thomas asked, looking away at the cafeteria as he picked up his tray. He looked back at the table and saw neither of the people who had been sitting there moments prior. “Huh.” He looked out across the cafeteria and shrugged. “Must’ve missed ‘em.” 

* * *

 

Thomas sat down in calculus, feeling uncertain about the homework of the day. He removed his homework from the textbook and began to work out the folds of the paper, double checking his equations and understanding of the subject.

“Hey, what did you get for number three?” The student that sat to the right of Thomas, Cathy Benson, was notorious for cheating off of other students’ papers and claiming work as her own. Long ago the cute-but-stupid act had grown weary on other students. Thomas shook his head, not even acknowledging the question. “Asshole.” Cathy muttered, looking at her own incomplete homework, before turning to another student and starting to whine to him. Thomas buried his face in his paper, trying to drown out the ear scratching sound of stupidity being used to flirt. 

“Alright guys, that’s the bell, sit down.” Their teacher, Mrs. Grime, stood up from her desk and gestured for homework to be sent to the front. Thomas couldn’t help but smile slightly when he saw that Cathy still had left number three blank.

* * *

  
  


Thomas scrolled through his Facebook feed lazily, trying to be as quiet as possible. He glanced at his digital clock, which blared a bright red 2:47am at him. 

_ Ding _ . 

He looked at his AOL alert to see a new message alert from an unknown user. He furrowed his brow and clicked on it. 

 

Brngme2lyfe: hey

Foster_dawg: hello?

Brngme2lyfe: is this Thomas?

Foster_dawg: yes who is this?

Brngme2lyfe: its virgil 

Brngme2lyfe: i cant sleep

Foster_dawg: yeah me either

Brngme2lyfe is typing…

Brngme2lyfe: i dont sleep most nights

Foster_dawg: me either

Brngme2lyfe: how r u

Foster_dawg: tired mostly

Brngme2lyfe: maybe u should sleep

Foster_dawg: yeah you should too

Foster_dawg is typing…

Foster_dawg: what keeps you up at night?

Brngme2lyfe: idk… u?

Foster_dawg: ...i see bad things when i try and sleep

Brngme2lyfe: like what?

Foster_dawg: idk 

Foster_dawg is typing…

Foster_dawg: see you tomorrow?

Brngme2lyfe: sure lol

 

Thomas scrolled back in his chair, away from his computer. He glanced over at his unmade bed and, unsure of what dreams would come, climbed into it, leaving his laptop open - just in case the nightmares returned.

* * *

 

“Thomas?”

Thomas rolled over, eyes heavy with sleep, and groaned.

“Thomas, could you come downstairs please?”

Thomas blinked, eyes bleary, and threw the blanket around his shoulders off his body. He looked at the clock - 8:34am. 

“Crap.” Thomas shot out of bed and began to run down the stairs, only to stop near the bottom, dumbfounded. Standing in front of him was his mother and, next to her, was a police officer. 

“Uh… good morning.” Thomas gave a small wave. The officer did not wave back. He turned to his mother and shot her an inquisitive look. “What’s going on?”

“This gentlemen has asked to have a word with you.” Thomas’s mother looked from him to the officer and back to him, watching as his eyebrows raised in confusion. “I’ll be just in the other room. Thomas, I’m sure you can show this officer the living room?”

“Yeah.. yeah.” Thomas stepped off the bottom step and began to walk towards the family room. “Uh - follow me.” He looked back at his mother, who stood there watching, thin lipped and anxious.

Thomas gestured for the police officer to sit on the couch and, when he had, sat in the armchair next to it. He watched as the officer pulled out a notebook and looked at him. He looked old, worn, like he’d seen some awful things in his time on the force. Thomas watched him, uncertain of what to say, what to think. All he could focus on were his nerves.

“I just need to ask you a few questions about where you were last night.” The officer looked at him as he got out his pen and clicked it. He looked at Thomas expectantly.

“I was home.” Thomas shrugged, shifting nervously in his chair. “I was online all night.”

“Can anyone prove that?” The officer asked, writing something on his notepad. 

“Yeah, my friend Virgil messaged me at like… I think it was like three am.” Thomas said, trying not to fidget. “What’s this about?”

“There’s been a murder on the other side of town at a gas station. One of your classmates.” The officer continued to scribble in his notebook before looking up at Thomas’s horrified expression. 

“Who?” Thomas felt terrified to ask, terrified to learn.

The officer paused a beat and looked up at him. “There’s a witness who places what she believes is you at the scene.”

“What - no. No, I was here at home. Who died?” Thomas pressed, wringing his hands.

“Student named Cathy Benson.” The officer looked at him blankly. “Did you know her?”

“I dunno.. She sits next to me in math. That’s about it.” Thomas pressed his hands together, thinking of her empty chair, her absent presence. “She… sat. I guess.” 

The officer nodded, writing a few notes in his pad. “Can you show me the messages between you and…”

“Virgil.” Thomas nodded, standing up. “He sat next to me at lunch yesterday.”

“Right.” The officer looked at Thomas, expecting him to lead the way out of the room, and Thomas obliged, heading up the stairs and getting out his laptop. 

“See, he messaged me on AOL…” Thomas opened the program and waited for it to load, nervously thinking about what the officer had said. He had had a nightmare about death, but surely - no. No. He would never. 

The two stood there next to each other, awkwardly, waiting for the program to load. Thomas drummed his fingers nervously on the desk, mind racing. He would never - right? 

A little ding came from the computer, indicating that it had loaded. Thomas clicked on recent messages and pointed, “There, see - there’s… wait…”

He frowned and glanced at the officer, who was still looking at the computer screen. Thomas looked back at the screen and continued scrolling, up and down, but there was no message from Virgil, no notification from user Bringme2lyfe. He looked at the officer again, who was now giving him an expression as if he knew what the truth was already.

“I swear - he goes to my school, you can ask him.” Thomas tried to keep the franticness out of his voice as the officer gave a knowing nod and put his notebook in his front pocket. “He sat next to me at lunch - this kid Logan was there too, he can prove it.”

“I’ll look into it.” The officer began to calmly leave the room, leaving Thomas to stand there, dumbfounded. 

For a moment he looked after the officer, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked over at the laptop, unsure where his anxiety had come from. 

“I didn’t do it.” He whispered. “I wouldn’t do it.”

He looked up at a knock at the door, seeing his mother standing there with two cups of coffee. “Would you like one?” She asked, holding out his favorite purple mug. “I know you don’t get much sleep.”

“You’re not supposed to know that,” Thomas said, smiling, getting up and taking the mug from her. “Thank you.”

“I’m your mom. I know everything.” She said, tapping her glasses. She looked down, into her own coffee, and then back at her son. “You would tell me, though? If you had done something you’d regret?”

“Mom!” Thomas gaped, incredulous. “Mom, I would never - “

“There’s surveillance footage.” Thomas’s mother sat her mug gently on Thomas’s desk and looked at him, mouth tight. “I was called into the station early this morning and they showed me. That’s why I agreed to let the officer talk to you.”

“Mom…” Thomas stammered, unsure what to say. “I was here, all night. I was here.”

“I believe you, sweetie.” She wrung her hands, uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact. “But the young man on the tape was wearing a white jacket with black sleeves. And he had your haircut.” 

Thomas shook his head, expression wild. “I was here.”

“I know, sweetie.” His mother looked at the ground and sighed. “I know.” 

“I think I’m going to stay home today.” Thomas sat down on his bed and looked up at his mother, who was picking her coffee back up from the table. He set his on the floor in front of his bed. “I’m not feeling that well.”

“Okay.” His mother began to exit his room before pausing and turning back one more time. “You would tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything?”

Thomas picked at his thumbnail, distracted. “I know.” 

He looked up and saw that she had left. A moment later, he heard the engine of her car start, and looked out the window to see her pulling out the driveway. For a moment Thomas stood there at his bedroom window, feeling uncertain. Then he turned away, filled with the urge to leave the house, an urge to escape from what was going on. As he put on his pants and a T shirt, he heard a little ding on his laptop. 

 

Brngme2lyfe: hey u ok?

 

Thomas shook his head, typing back quickly, frustrated.

 

Foster_dawg: im fine ttyl

 

Thomas didn’t notice when he left the room that the messages had, once again, disappeared.


	3. Back to the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I am horrible at titling things.  
> Thomas finally meets Roman.

Thomas sat in the park on a bench, looking at all the equipment he used to regularly use. He looked down at his watch - 1:34pm. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed; soon he would have to head home, a place he currently couldn’t stand the idea of being.

Murder.  _ Murder _ . 

Thomas tried to piece together the nightmare he had had the night before, still deeply unsettled. There had been a woman in his dream. He had been putting gas in his car. And then there was screaming - but, no. He was a home. He had been at home.

“I would never…” Thomas muttered to himself, reflecting on the similarities. “I would never.”

“Hey, kid. What’re you doing here? It’s a school day.” 

Thomas looked up to see a teenager roughly his age looking at him with crossed arms and a smug expression. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school too?” Thomas couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Ah, yes. But I’m homeschooled, actually. My house is the yellow one - where you enter the park from the main road.” The student looked at him with that same smug expression as Thomas raised an eyebrow, annoyed. “You, however… I don’t think I’ve seen here before.”

“I used to come a lot as a kid.” Thomas looked at the ground, thinking uncomfortably of his tenth birthday party. “Then we… stopped.”

“That has an air of mystery about it.” The teenager in front of him finally sat down next to him and stretched out a hand. “I do apologize, where are my manners? Roman.”

“Thomas.” Thomas took his hand and shook it.

“Thomas! What a regal name.” Roman gestured dramatically. “Why, you could be a prince with a name like that.”

Thomas laughed in spite of himself. “What are you doing here on a school day, Mr. Homeschool?”

“My mother needed the day off.” Roman looked away and Thomas noticed the change in the inflection of his voice. “She.. gets tired.” 

“Ah.” Thomas twiddled his thumbs and looked back across the park. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Roman shrugged before returning to his previous level of energy. “Shall we walk together on this fine Thursday?”

“Let’s.” Thomas stood up from the bench and the two began to walk across the park, around the equipment and the community building.

“You know, I used to see this kid here all the time… Can’t remember his name though.” Thomas stepped on the once familiar rock and continued walking. “He and I used to go in the woods a lot. It was his favorite part of the park.”

“Ah, yes, the woods.” Roman and Thomas watched as a young woman jogged by them, completely oblivious to their presence, and into the path that led to the aforementioned forest. “I must say, that is also my favorite part of this place.”

“Oh yeah?” Thomas looked at the path into the woods, the jogger growing fainter in the distance. “How come?”

“You can do whatever you want back there. It’s fantastic.” Roman threw his hands out wildly, and stopped, one hand in the air as if he was literally grasping an idea. “Say, that woman could be a damsel in distress, and you the prince who must save her from a dragon witch!”

“A dragon… witch?” Thomas chuckled. “That’s interesting.” 

“Shall we enter the forest?” Roman gave another dramatic gesture with his hand and Thomas obliged, walking into the forest. 

 

_ She’s a damsel in distress. I must rescue her. _

_ I must rescue her from the man running towards her -  _

_ There’s a rock in his hand. Why is there a rock in his hand?  _

_ That’s my hand. Suddenly it’s my hand. _

_ There’s blood. _

_ I’m running away, but I’m still standing here. The rock is in my hand. I look to see there’s blood on the rock and she’s choking on the ground, gasping. She goes limp.  _

 

Thomas shot up from his bed, sweating profusely, breath fast and shallow, panicked. He clutched at his chest and found that the T shirt he’d been wearing earlier was off, his skin bare. He couldn’t remember taking off his shirt. He threw the blanket off and immediately threw it back over his body - he couldn’t remember taking off his clothes. 

In fact… hadn’t he just been in the park? Thomas glanced around his room, bewildered and disoriented. He remembered the dream about the woman in the park and sighed peacefully; he hadn’t gone to the park at all. It must have been a dream.

An incredibly real dream.

“Just a dream.” He whispered to himself. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything. Just a dream.” He looked out towards his bedroom window and saw that it was sunset; he had slept away the entire day. Dreaming of going around town, and then to the park, and then -

“Thomas! Dinner’s ready!”

Thomas ran a hand through his sweat filled hair and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Down in a minute!” He called back.

“Better get it while it’s hot!” His father called up, sounding jovial. 

Thomas got out of bed, getting dressed as quickly as possible, still bewildered by his missing clothing. He couldn’t find the shirt or pants anywhere in his laundry, which only added a layer of mystery. He finally stumbled down the stairs, face still pale with the shock of his afternoon nightmare.

“How’re you feeling? Any better?” His mother asked, serving herself some macaroni from the stove and handing Thomas a plate.

“Not really.” Thomas set the plate back down. “I’m not really that hungry.”

“Well, it’ll be here if you change your mind.” 

Thomas nodded, going to exit the kitchen. 

“You not eating tonight, kiddo?” Thomas’s father asked, sitting there in front of his own plate of macaroni. 

“No.” Thomas shook his head. “I don’t feel well.”

“You look pretty pale.” His father observed, looking at him carefully. “Maybe go and lie down.”

“Yeah.” Thomas left the dining room, heading back up the stairs, uninterested in the world around him. 


	4. Back to the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas goes to the park to hang out with some friends. Picks up immediately after the previous chapter.

Thomas scrolled absently through Tumblr, desperate for a distraction. He scrolled past an article about yet another missing dog being found murdered and shuddered, looking for something more pleasant.  A small ding alerted him - new message on AOL.

Thomas opened the message, seeing Virgil’s username displayed brightly across the screen in purple letters.

 

Brngme2lyfe: why werent you at school 2day

Foster_dawg is typing…

Foster_dawg: not feeling well

Brngme2lyfe: ah im sorry

Brngme2lyfe: Logan asked too, the lunch table was just us today

Foster_dawg: Katie and Doug were out too?

Brngme2lyfe: guess so

Brngme2lyfe is typing…

Brngme2lyfe: wanna hang out?

Foster_dawg: it’s like midnight dude

Brngme2lyfe: i know but im bored

 

Ding.

 

New message from Katespades98.

 

Thomas clicked the message, opening a second window.

 

Katespades98: hey u ok?

Foster_dawg: yeah im fine

Katespades98: u were sitting by urself at lunch the other day

Katespades98: figured u might be upset about Cathy

Foster_dawg: i mean what happened to cathy sucks but i didnt know her that well

Foster_dawg: we werent close

Foster_dawg: and i wasnt alone, logan and virgil were there

 

New message from Brngme2lyfe.

 

Brngme2lyfe: come on lets do somethiiiiiing

Foster_dawg: idk…

Brngme2lyfe: Logans got booooooze

 

Thomas reflected for a moment on the temptation of alcohol. He’d never drank before, but the thought of easing his nerves, the thought of being too drunk to have another nightmare… 

 

New message from Katespades98.

 

Katespades98: Corey said u were by urself

Katespades98: just like… talking to urself

Foster_dawg: no?

Foster_dawg: two other people were there?

Foster_dawg: corey just wasn’t eating when they were there im sure

 

New message from Brngme2lyfe.

 

Brngme2lyfe: were going to the park are you coming?

Foster_dawg is typing…

Foster_dawg: sure, itll just take me a few to get there

Brngme2lyfe: sweet

 

New message from Katespades98.

 

Katespades98: u sure ur ok?

Foster_dawg: yeah im fine, heading to the park, wanna come?

Katespades98: thomas its super late

Foster_dawg: i kno

Katespades98 is typing…

Katespades98: ok ill be there in a bit

* * *

  
  


Thomas began to tiptoe down the hallway, careful not to disturb his parents. He paused, listening to his mother’s voice through a cracked door.

“...not acting like himself. I mean it’s like when he was a kid all over again.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Teenagers go through phases.” Thomas’s father was a bit louder, a bit more persistent.

“They’re saying dogs are going missing again.” Thomas’s mother sounded strained, tired. “And you know he never sleeps.”

“What are you saying? That he has something to do with that student?” 

There was a pause. Thomas held his breath.

“I don’t think we should rule it out.” 

Thomas gripped his jacket sleeve tightly, wringing it in his anxious fist. Had his mother just said he was involved in Cathy Benson’s murder? 

“He would never. You know our son would never - he’s such a good kid. He gets top grades. He never sneaks out. He isn’t a social butterfly, that’s all.” Thomas’s father sounded defensive, as if his mother had accused him instead of her son. 

“I would recognize Thomas anywhere. And that’s - that’s who I saw on that tape. I swear it.” 

Thomas realized he was still holding his breath. As quietly as possible, he let it out, breathing out slowly through his mouth. 

“It’s just someone who looks like him, honey. You know he would never do something like that.”

“It’s not normal!” His mother said more loudly, and then again, softly, “It’s not normal - he walks around talking to himself, hangs out with virtually no one - do you remember he used to have an imaginary friend? I can’t remember - but he was acting like this then, too.” 

Thomas shook his head, trying to figure out how long he could stand here and listen to his parents argue about him. He glanced at his watch - he’d already been standing here eight minutes, roughly. 

“I’m worried that something is wrong with our son.” His mother sounded defeated. “Please, let me take him to a doctor.” 

His father sighed. “If it will put your mind at ease. What are we going to tell him though?”

“That it’s just a check up. That’s all it is anyway, right?” Thomas’s mother sounded tearful, and it pulled at his heart. He tried to suppress his anger as he headed for the stairs, putting the spare keys in his pocket, opening the door as quietly as possible. 

What did his mother think of him?

* * *

  
  


“Hey, Tommy!” Virgil was sitting at a picnic table and grinning, a bottle of wine next to him. “Come join the party!” 

“Thanks.” Thomas grinned, stepping forward, eyeing Logan and Virgil in turn. “Oh - is Katie here yet?”

“I haven’t seen any females, no.” Logan took the bottle of wine and drank from it, straight, before shuddering. “My, Virgil, couldn’t you have snuck something less… potent from home?”

“My mom won’t miss it. She’s too busy drinking to notice anything I do. And - this is all the stuff she ever gets.” Virgil patted Logan on the back, his usual boundaries for social anxiety lifted. “Com’n. Have some.” He gestured to Thomas.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Thomas smiled, reaching for the bottle. 

“What are you guys doing here, it’s midnight!”

Thomas reeled around to see Roman standing there, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. He took the bottle in his hand and, looking Roman straight in the eye, took a large swig, before stumbling and coughing. 

“That is - woah. Is all wine like that?” Thomas sputtered. “That burns!”

“Drinking in my park like a bunch of hooligans?” Roman stepped forward to join them, arms still crossed. “What is wrong with all of you? Who are you anyway?”

“Well you met me earlier-”

“Not you, Thomas. You two.” Roman gestured to Logan and Virgil, who were both giggling. 

“ _ Your _ park?” Virgil threw his arms wide, standing up on the table. “It’s  _ everyone’s  _ park!” He laughed loudly and looked back at Roman. “Oh. I’m Virgil.”

“Logan. Much obliged.” Logan held out his hand to shake.

“Roman.” Roman replied, eyeing the two, not holding out his hand. Logan dropped his own.

“We should probably keep an eye out for Katie.” Thomas said pointedly. “A young girl, out here in the dark… who knows what might happen to her?” He sounded casual, but his worry for Katie was growing. 

“That’s rather grim.” Logan replied, adjusting his glasses. “But yes, you are correct. It’s not safe, is it. Why are we here?”

“Because my mom would notice if we were drinking in her basement.” Virgil snickered, sitting on the table itself. “So, too sick to go to school but not too sick to come drink with us?”

“It’s not that kind of sick.” Thomas suddenly felt himself overcome with shyness and turned away, looking out at the rest of the park, at the teeter totter where Patton had once sat alone. He felt a sudden pang in his chest for Patton, for times before… for something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Thomas sat down, right in the grass, and then laid back. 

“You okay there, Tommy?” Virgil leaned over the edge of the table and looked at Thomas, his hands above his head, his hair in the grass.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Fine.” Thomas sighed. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Want another drink?” Virgil teased.

“Sure.” Thomas sat up and took the bottle of wine from him, taking it back and chugging it.

“Thomas - Thomas do be careful!” Logan protested. Thomas set the bottle down, a new third of it gone, a little bit left. “Thomas!” 

“You guys started drinking before I got here. You could’ve had more.” Thomas pointed out. He turned the bottle over in his hands. “I don’t really feel it though.”

“You will when you stand up.” Roman sat down on the edge of the picnic table and looked down at Thomas, who was laying back down in the grass. 

“You know I used to come here a lot as a kid.” Thomas put his arms behind his head and sighed, stretching out his legs. “But then my dog got like, murdered. So we stopped coming.”

“That’s dreadful.” Logan shook his head and climbed down from the picnic table to lay next to Thomas in the grass. “Truly, truly dreadful.”

“It was.” Thomas sighed, staring into the stars. “And then I asked my parents for a new dog and they said no. Who says no to a ten year old who wants a new puppy?” 

“They were probably just trying to protect you.” Virgil said quietly as he, too, laid back, his body on top of the picnic table. “I mean your first dog got fucking murdered. What are they gonna do, get you a new one? Why? So it can die? We all die anyway.”

“That’s bleak. Roman leaned back on the picnic table, looking up at the night sky. “My, it is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Thomas shivered a little and adjusted his legs. “It is.” He shut his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. “Does alcohol prevent nightmares?” 

“I don’t know.” Logan pointed up at the sky. “But I like to think that stars do.” 

 

* * *

 

“Hey, kid. What’re you doing here?” Thomas felt his body loll from side to side. He rolled onto his side, wet grass hitting his face, waking him up. He turned over and saw a young man in a blue T shirt, a grey cardigan, and glasses. 

“Hmm?” 

“Kid - the cops are coming. You gotta go home.” The teen urged, shaking Thomas again. “Why’re you asleep in a park anyway? Don’t you have a home to go to?”

“Sorry…” Thomas shook his head, sitting up. He eyed the teen for a minute, frowning. “You look… really familiar.” He shut his eyes as his pulse hit him, the first sign of a hangover. “Oh.. wow.” 

“I don’t know who you are, but my name is Patton?” The teen looked over his shoulder and back at Thomas. “Please, please get out of here, they’re going to come and arrest you, at least for trespassing, and then they’re going to find her, and-”

“Patton?” Thomas suddenly felt alert. “I used to know you!”

“Yes, that’s very nice, I’m sorry I don’t recognize you. Now please. Get out of here.” Patton urged, eyes widening with annoyance.

“Wait - what else would they arrest me for?” Thomas asked, bewildered.

Patton looked at the ground and picked up a blade of grass, as if he was unsure what to say, or how to say what he needed to say. 

“Patton, what’s going on?” Thomas urged. He remembered how Katie hadn’t shown up. “Is Katie okay?”

“I don’t know who that is.” Patton shook his head. “You need to get out of here.” He stood up and held his hand out to Thomas. “Come on.” 

Thomas took his hand and stood up, looking down at his clothes. He was covered in dirt and bits of grass… and blood.

“What… the…” Thomas frantically began to rub his clothes, trying to get the stains out. “Patton?”

“Go - go!” Patton urged, shoving Thomas away. 

Thomas stumbled backwards before turning and beginning to run. He looked back for Patton, to see if he was following him, but Patton had vanished. 


	5. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story ends.

Thomas had stopped jogging as he approached his house. His heart hammered upon seeing a police car parked outside. He looked down at his clothes and stopped short, staring into the yard and the front window, wondering what to do. His clammy hands fiddled with his jacket sleeves as he began to walk up to the front door, unsure what to do next, unsure where else to go. Slowly, he opened the garage door, stepping in through the back door.

“...not acting like himself lately, I think he might be on drugs - I swear he wouldn’t just run away, officer, he was in his bed last night - something might’ve happened to him-”

Thomas stopped just outside of the kitchen, dead in his tracks, heart sinking at the worry in his mother’s voice. He hadn’t come down for breakfast, she’d figured out he was gone. He looked again at the spots of blood on his clothes, dark stains he couldn’t rightfully explain, and braced himself for the consequences as he stepped into the edge of the room. 

“- I don’t know where he is and I just, with that girl in the park the other day, I’m just worried -”

“Hey, mom.” 

Thomas’s mother and the officer both turned and looked at him. Thomas watched his mother struggle for speech and felt another stab of guilt at seeing the tissue in her hand and the redness in her eyes. He suddenly felt himself enveloped in a hug, knocking the wind from his lungs. He sighed and sank into it, exhausted.

“Where have you been?” His mother stroked his back and pulled away. “And you’re filthy, what - is that blood?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t mean to stay out all night.” Thomas half-lied, unsure if he was fine at all. He looked at the officer, who was eyeing the two of them with a look of relief on his face. Thomas pulled away, somewhat reluctantly, from his mother’s arms and looked at the officer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be out all night like that.”

“It happens. Sometimes teenagers -” There was a beep from his walkie talkie. “Hold on.” The officer stepped into the other room.

“Thomas you can’t do that, you can’t do that.” Thomas’s mother was rubbing his arms frantically. “Is this your blood?”

“It’s nothing, it’s fine.” Thomas found his words were jumbled, confused, unable to think of a lie.

“It’s not fine!” Thomas’s mother shook her head, rubbing at one of the stains with her thumb. “Are you hurt? Why were you out all night? Where were you?” 

“I was at the park with some friends.” Thomas suddenly felt uncomfortable, like something inside him was sick. “Excuse me, I need to, uh, use the bathroom.”

“You also need a shower. Oh, and you’re grounded!” His mother called after him as he ran up the stairs, past the officer, and bolted for the toilet. 

Thomas slammed the door shut and turned the water on, sinking to his knees in front of the toilet, the wave of nausea strong. He took off his jacket and smelled one of the stains - definitely blood. He set it down beside him and leaned forward, resting his arm on the toilet seat. 

Katie. Where was Katie?

Thomas leaned forward and heaved. 

Nothing came up.

* * *

  
  


Thomas stood in the shower, letting the hot water run down his back, as hot as he could stand it, and felt the steam rise up over his tears. He couldn’t explain where they came from. He couldn’t explain the guilt. It was more than just that his mother had been worried. It was more than the nightmares. So many dead dogs and cats, so many dreams about mutilating animals. And recently they’d become more violent, more aggressive, turning from pets to animals.

Thomas looked at his hands, how he could move between the water droplets. He existed here, between the artificial rain drops. He was at peace here, with tears streaming down his face, where nothing could get to him. Where the nightmares were distant, far away.

“I don’t know who I am any more.” He whispered to no one.

Thomas leaned forward on the wall and leaned his head against it, weeping bitterly. 

* * *

  
  


Thomas sat in his room, once again alone, scrolling through the internet. He looked out the window and then at the pile of last night’s clothes next to his bed. Blood. Blood that he couldn’t place a source for.

He snapped up at the sound of three knocks at the door. Startled, Thomas jogged down the stairs and threw the door open to see a woman about the age of his mother standing in front of him.

“Hello.” He leaned on the door awkwardly, still exhausted. “Can I help you?” He added when she looked at him with a trembling lip.

“Hi, are you Thomas?” She asked gently. “Thomas Sanders?”

“Yes, why?” Thomas looked behind him, half expecting to see his mother, then back at her. “I’m home sick today if you’re wondering about my attendance.”

“No, not that.” The woman shook her head. “My name is Colleen Daughtry. My daughter is Katherine Daughtry - you might know her as Katie?”

“Oh.” Thomas stopped swinging off the door and felt his stomach drop. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know.” Colleen swept a hair away from her trembling eyes. “She went out last night and didn’t come home. She thinks I don’t know she goes out but I can hear the garage door. And well, the school called me because she hadn’t come home. And…” She took a deep shuddering breath and looked down. “I know it’s a violation of privacy but I got on her computer and found a message to a Foster_Dawg - she once told me that was you - about going to the park.” 

“Oh.” Thomas suddenly felt his heart pound in his chest, his hands sweaty and slippery. “Well… she didn’t show up at the park, actually.”

“I see.” Colleen sniffed and looked up at Thomas. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Thomas glanced behind Colleen and saw a familiar figure walking down the street in a blue T shirt and grey cardigan. He looked back at the mother, who was wringing her hands, and back at the figure disappearing down the street. “I’ll let you know if she contacts me, okay?”

“Thank you.” Colleen didn’t get to finish her thought as Thomas shut the door behind him and walked out to the figure who was now barely visible at the end of the street.

* * *

  
  


“Patton?” Thomas asked, catching up to him. He bent down a moment, slightly winded. 

“Oh - hey again.” Patton replied, looking uncomfortable. “How are you?”

“Not good. What the heck happened this morning?” Thomas gestured to his now changed clothes. “Whose blood was on my clothes? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Patton stopped and turned away, still looking unsettled. “Yeah. I do.”

“Would you tell me? Is Katie okay? Why were the police at the park?” Thomas felt half like screaming, half like whispering, as he looked around him urgently. 

Patton sighed, crossing his arms and looking directly at Thomas. “Let’s take a walk.” 

They began to walk down the street, passing a distraught looking woman posting a poster for a lost dog. Thomas gave her a small wave, which she cautiously returned, before going back to stapling up her poster.

Patton kicked a small rock as they turned, going down another street to another block. “You said you used to know me before. What did you mean by that?”

“When we were kids we hung out at the park. And then you showed me… well, you showed me my dead dog.” Thomas said bluntly.

Patton nodded. “Oh yeah. It was your birthday.”

“Yeah.” Thomas nodded enthusiastically. “So you do remember me.”

“Well… the better question is if you remember me.” Patton adjusted his cardigan and looked over at Thomas’s confused expression.

“Well… this is going to sound weird, but… I think it’s because of the dead dog thing - you were a figure in my nightmares for a long time.” Thomas furrowed his brow. “Why are you being so cryptic?”

“I’m sorry, I just have to be right now.” Patton shrugged and looked back the the ground. 

“Why, though?” Thomas stepped in front of Patton, stopping him where he was. “I need to know if Katie’s okay.”

Patton looked Thomas in the eye and bit his lip. “I think you and I both know the answer to that question.” 

* * *

  
  


_ “Katie!” Thomas sat up, too quickly, and laughed. “Woah - that was fast.”  _

_ “The infamous Katie!” Virgil grinned, also sitting up on the table. “Nice to meet you!” _

_ “Ah yes, the royal Kate.” Roman bowed. “What a fine night this is, my lady.” _

_ “Ignore them, they’re just messing around.” Thomas laughed and stood up, walking over to her. _

_ “Ignore who?” Katie looked behind Thomas and back at him. “No one’s behind you.” _

_ “Yeah they are - Logan, Roman, and Virgil are all right there.” Thomas pointed back at the table and watched Logan give a wave.  _

_ “Thomas what are you talking about?” Katie looked around Thomas and back at him again. “We’re the only ones here.” _

_ “Ha! Classic. Pretending I don’t exist. That’s great.” Virgil groaned, laying back on the table. “See, this is why I don’t like girls.”  _

_ “Virgil, stop it.” Thomas stumbled, drunkenly, and looked back at Katie. “He’s just messing around, he’s just an emo kid.” _

_ “Thomas…” Katie began to back away, shaking her head. “Thomas you’re drunk.” _

_ “Well, yeah, maybe a little.” Thomas threw his arms out and spun in a circle, giggling. “I’m definitely not sober.”  _

_ “I think we need to get you home.” Katie reached out for Thomas, touching him gently on the shoulder. He jumped, startled, and heard Roman laugh behind him.  _

_ “Katie, I’m fine. Come on, come hang out with us.” Thomas grinned, gesturing to the picnic table. “Come on.” _

_ “Thomas you’re scaring me.” Katie looked at him, wide eyed, and adjusted her sweatshirt. _

_ “Stupid girl.” Roman muttered, standing up. “I should teach her a lesson about what it means to be scared.” _

_ “Oh yeah!” Virgil laughed, leaning on his elbow. “You should!”  _

_ “What are you guys talking about?” Thomas walked backwards, towards the table, argumentative. “Katie doesn’t need to learn any lesson.” _

_ “Ah, but she was rude to us, ignoring us. I agree with Roman.” Logan said pointedly, standing up.  _

_ “Thomas, what are you doing?” Katie began to step towards him, unsure of her movements. She reached for Thomas again, only to be knocked backwards by Roman.  _

_ “Roman - what -” _

_ “Thomas!” Katie choked, holding her stomach. “Why the hell did you hit me? What the fuck?” _

_ “What are you talking about? I didn’t -” _

_ “You -” Katie pointed at Thomas and began to walk backwards, still holding her stomach. “You’re fucking crazy.” _

_ “Hey now, that’s uncalled for.” Virgil stood up from the picnic table and hopped down, walking towards Katie. He pulled out of his pocket a switchblade and held it out.  _

_ “Thomas, put the knife down.” Katie urged, voice now frantic. _

_ “I’m not holding a knife.” Thomas protested, stepping towards her. “Katie, please-” _

_ “Thomas, put the knife down!” Katie was screaming now, looking around her for help. “Someone! Help me!” _

_ “Katie-” _

_ Thomas watched helplessly as Virgil ran forward and plunged the switchblade into Katie’s flesh. He could hear a scream - someone was screaming. Was it him? Was it her? _

_ Logan stepped forward and held Katie’s arms, knocking her to the ground. Roman was laughing, laughing. Thomas was screaming, screaming. _

* * *

 

Thomas looked at Patton and began to back away slowly. “No. They wouldn’t.”

“They would.” Patton sighed and looked at Thomas sadly. “You would.”

“No.”

* * *

  
  


_ Katie, screaming. Katie, covered in blood. Katie, gurgling, red sticky stuff coming out of her mouth and throat. Katie, crawling away. Thomas, screaming. Thomas, covered in blood. Thomas, dropping the switchblade.  _

 

Thomas reeled around, hearing a small siren, and saw a police car behind him. The car stopped and two officers came out, stepping towards him. 

“They’re coming to arrest you.” Patton said simply.

“What - I didn’t do anything.” Thomas looked around wildly. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Was anyone else ever there when they were?” Patton asked, still looking directly at Thomas. “Or were you always alone?”

“Alone - but -” Thomas stammered, unsure what to say. “I didn’t do it. You know I didn’t do it.”

“Thomas Sanders?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” Thomas turned to the officers and then back to Patton. “Patton, buddy, please. Help me.” He felt his eyes stinging with tears. “I didn’t do it.” 

“You are under arrest for the murders of Katie Daughtry and Francis Spooner, as well as for several acts of animal cruelty.” Thomas felt himself being pulled back, his hands forced behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say-”

“Patton!” Thomas screamed, pulling away from the officer. “Patton tell them the truth!”

“-can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right-”

“Patton!” Thomas felt tears stream down his cheeks. He screamed, struggling, the larger man holding him tightly as he tightened a pair of handcuffs. “Patton it wasn’t me!”

“-to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

“Patton!” Thomas screamed, still struggling. “Patton help me!” He kicked and screamed, the officers teaming up and opening the back of the car, shoving him inside. Thomas looked at Patton as the car began to pull away, still screaming. “Patton! Patton help me!”

Patton just stared after him, fading into the distance, saying nothing at all.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This should explain everything.

An officer stood behind a two way mirror, observing the young man in front of him with sadness in his eyes, sipping from a cup of burnt coffee. He shuddered at the taste and watched as a man in a suit walked up next to him. 

“Name is Thomas Sanders. Seventeen.” The man in the suit adjusted his tie and held out a clipboard, looking over some details. “Rogers asked me to come down and talk to him.”

“Hmm.” The officer looked at the man next to him with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Stephen Armstrong. I’m here to conduct a psychological evaluation.” He held out his hand to the officer, who took it and shook it.

“Berkowitz.” He said, giving it a shake. He looked back at the trembling young man behind the mirror. “I was there when we arrested him. He wouldn’t stop screaming, but…”

“But what?” 

“Well, he was calling this name, but no one was there. He was just in the street alone, screaming, ‘Patton! Patton help me!’ - but-”

“There was no Patton.” Stephen looked back at Thomas, who was still looking around the room wildly.

“No.” Berkowitz took another bitter sip of coffee, frowning at the taste. “He’s told us several times that these other kids killed that girl. But there’s no record of any of them in the school, or on social media, or anywhere. Fellow students say he’s been sitting alone at lunch, talking to himself.” 

“Hmm.” Stephen looked back at his clipboard. “What about the other girl? Cathy Benson? We think that was him too?”

“It’s looking pretty likely.” Berkowitz sighed. “That’s three people who were around or near him who came up dead. You ask me, it’s pretty open and shut.” 

“Let’s see what I can find out.” Stephen turned to exit into the room. “You sure there’s no record of a Logan, Virgil, Roman, or Patton Sanders?”

“Positive.” Berkowitz nodded. “Well, maybe they exist. But they don’t live here. And they all have the same last name - that’s kind of suspicious.”

“It is.” Stephen nodded, his hand still on the doorknob. “Poor kid.” 

“Hmm.” Berkowitz bit his lip and looked down in his coffee. “Personally I feel worse for the terrified girls. The ones who ended up dead. I feel a lot worse for them than I do for some psycho.”

Stephen sighed and opened the door.

* * *

 

“Thomas Sanders?” 

Thomas looked up at the man in the suit who was walking towards him and watched as he pulled out the metal chair and scooted toward the table. The man smiled at him and then looked at the clipboard that he had also laid on the table before looking up at Thomas. “My name is Stephen Armstrong, I’m the head of behavioral health over at the hospital. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“What - behavior health? What does that mean?” Thomas held out his hands in front of him, which were restrained with a pair of handcuffs. “Can you at least let me out of these?”

“I’m afraid that’s not something I can do.” Stephen got out a pen and settled in to make some notes on his clipboard. “Now. What can you tell me about the park last night?”

Thomas shook his head, burying his hands under the table. “I’ve told you guys everything.” 

“I’d like to hear it from your perspective one more time. If that’s not too much to ask.” Stephen sat poised, waiting for Thomas to take the bait.

“Well, I went there to meet up with some friends. And things went wrong.” Thomas frowned. “Really wrong. Katie started screaming at me, but Roman… Roman stabbed her. And I couldn’t figure out why.”

“Roman…?”

“Roman, this guy I met the other day, he lives by the park. In this yellow house.” Thomas shifted in his seat and looked at Stephen. 

“Is the yellow house right by the main road to the park?” Stephen asked slowly, sitting back in his chair, stroking his beard.

“Yes - wait. How did you know that?” Thomas leaned forward. “Please get him in here. He killed Katie. Not me.”

“Thomas…” Stephen looked at his clipboard and took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but that house is abandoned.” 

Thomas blinked, and blinked again. “What?”

“Also… the officers have informed me that there is no Virgil Sanders at your school. Or a Logan.”

“No. No, they exist. They exist.” Thomas shook his head. “They exist.”

“No, Thomas. They don’t.” Stephen leaned forward, looking him in the eye. “Think more about the park.”

Thomas was still shaking his head, muttering his denial. He closed his eyes and thought about it. “Katie was screaming for me to stop. Not for Roman or Logan or Virgil to stop. But for me to stop.” He opened his eyes and let out a low gasp. “But I would never. I would never.”

“Thomas, think about it. Really think about it.” Stephen urged. “When did your dog die?”

“When I was ten, why are you bringing that up?” 

“Who was there with you?” Stephen said, as gently as possible. “Who was there with you when you found your dog?”

“Patton. Patton was.” Thomas looked back down at his hands, thinking of Patton standing in the street, watching him be dragged away. 

“The same Patton who was there when you were arrested?” Stephen prodded.

“Yes.” Thomas nodded. “The same one.”

“Thomas… no one else was there.” Stephen said gently.

“No…” Thomas brought his cuffed hands to his head and rested them there. “He was there, he was right there.”

“No, Thomas.” Stephen sighed. “He wasn’t. None of them were there.” 

“No.” Thomas shook his head and felt tears spring into his eyes. “No…”

“You’re a creative, intelligent young man. However, it appears also that you’re highly delusional, and a danger to yourself and others.” Stephen began to write something on his clipboard. Thomas didn’t look up, tears beginning to run down his cheeks. “I’ll be working with your lawyer to see if we can work out some kind of insanity plea. Okay?”

Thomas didn’t look up, letting out a shuddering sob. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's still misunderstanding: Logan, Roman, Virgil, and Patton were all manifestations of Thomas's mind. They only appeared when something violent happened, when he did something violent. He was the killer. Kind of a "A Beautiful Mind" situation.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @thelogicalloganipus. Sorry that this ended up being a lot longer than I originally planned.


End file.
